8 Iktitos ot the Ibuntiiuj^jfielb 



pinched to make both ends meet, that he told his wife he 

 feared he must give up the hounds. ' Don't you do 

 anything of the kind,' said she. ' Times must mend, and 

 then you'll be sorry you gave up the hounds.' Like a 

 sensible man, John took the advice of his better half. 

 Not long afterwards, to his great surprise, he received 

 a letter from his bankers informing him that ;^iooo had 

 been paid in to his credit by ' A Friend to Fox-hunting ' 

 who wished to remain anonymous. When things were 

 all smooth again, Mrs Warde confessed that she was the 

 * Friend to Fox-hunting,' and had provided the money 

 out of her private purse. 



Among the wise sayings of this fine old sportsman 

 which have been preserved, I may quote two : ' Never 

 buy a horse from a rich man who hunts : ' ' Never believe 

 a word any man says about a horse he wishes to sell — 

 not even a bishop ! ' He acted on these maxims and 

 relied solely on his own judgment in buying horses. 

 The best horse he ever had, Blue Ruin, he chose from 

 seeing him drag a couple of tons in a cart round 

 Newbury market-place. 



John Warde lived for thirteen years after he gave up 

 the Mastership of the Craven, and died on December 8, 

 1838, in London at his house in Charles Street, Berkeley 

 Square, having reached the ripe old age of 87. He was 

 a fine specimen of the good old jolly, free-living, fox- 

 hunting English Scjuire, a race now almost, if not quite, 

 extinct, but in its day a notable factor in England's 

 greatness and renown. 



